


It's In That Place Where I Put That Thing That One Time

by ImaniJoain



Series: Unlikely Singularities [32]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 08:48:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17443694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImaniJoain/pseuds/ImaniJoain
Summary: Tony's having and existential crisis. And also is confused about cheese products. It's a good thing he has a daughter to help him through these problems.Takes place 8/6/17.





	It's In That Place Where I Put That Thing That One Time

**Author's Note:**

> I know I still have not resolved the great Bucky/Evie conundrum, but it is running incredibly long and this was just lying around, waiting to display how completely chill Tony is capable of being.
> 
> Like, so chill. Rhodey wishes he could be this chill. Psh.

_I fucked up again._

Tony stared at the schematics for a new quinjet. Or maybe it was schematics for the gym expansion including a dynamic rock wall. Or it might have been his lunch order. He wasn’t seeing it.

He wasn’t seeing anything at all. Or hearing. Or thinking.

His entire, massive, genius brain was static.

_Pregnant. Pepper is pregnant. We’re going to have a baby._

The three thoughts kept circling him, like muddy, bloody water around the shower drain. Followed by: _I fucked up again._

_Pregnant. Pepper is pregnant. We’re going to have a baby. I fucked up again._

_Pregnant. Pepper is pregnant. We’re going to have a baby. I fuck-_

“Dad!”

Tony startled so hard he fell off his stool and onto the floor. His heart skittered into _cold-darkness-of-space-alone_ territory before he recognized Maria’s worried face leaning over him.

“Something you needed, Junior?” He raised one eyebrow and straightened his t-shirt, pulling his legs into a criss-cross position and relaxing back on his left hand as if he had _intended_ to take a seat on the cold tile of his workshop. “Or were you just returning U? Not that I am accusing you of taking U. Because you would never take U without permission. Or fiddle with her programming. Or add speakers to her chassis. Or attempt to increase her speed with new treads and a hydrogen cell. So I am sure you are here for something else entirely. Snack?”

DUM-E whirred and thrust a juice box at Maria. Her concern fell away to be replaced with a scowl. Tony let out a silent, shaky breath while her attention was diverted.

“How many times have I told you, you useless piece of junk? I don’t want a goddamn juice! Where the hell are you even getting these from? Jesus!” She spent several more minutes berating the robot, which whirred sadly and eventually moved off, juice box hanging dejectedly from its claw, toward a corner of the workshop. Once she was certain she wouldn’t be accosted with healthy drinks, Maria plopped down on the floor next to Tony, rolling her eyes.

“What is his deal, anyway? Were you drunk when you programmed him? Or high? Both? Is he some sort of canary to gauge when the machines will tire of our abuse and stage an uprising?”

“Who talked to you about – never mind. It was Lewis. Of course it was Lewis. Coal mining.” He snorted, feeling his blood pressure ease up to something like _one-red-bull-and-Pepper-in-a-tight-skirt_. “This isn’t the dark ages. And I wasn’t drunk. I was nine. DUM-E turned out pretty good considering I hadn’t fully developed my pre-frontal cortex or, you know, hand-eye coordination. Not to mention calculus. I didn’t even start on that until I was ten. He might have the logic processing of a particularly slow dog, but he was _my_ slow dog. So. There. I mean, really, what were you doing when you where nine?”

Maria refused to look at him. “Hiding under a train platform until Darcy could come visit and buy me food so I didn’t have to stay at huggy-Dan’s house.”

Tony’s heart stopped.

“And stealing an original, mint condition piston for a ‘62 Dart. Made me cash for a bike and enough chocolate to keep the other fosters doing my bidding for a month. Dan trashed the bike when Darcy got me moved to a new family. Asshole.”

Tony made a mental note to track down Dan the pedophile and remove him from his physical existence so he wouldn’t impact the carbon footprint of the Earth any further. And also to divert more funding to before and after school programs. Programs with meals.

“I suppose that is comparable. A bicycle is does require maintenance.” For his own sanity, he didn’t mention the waste of flesh foster father.

“And it never tried to give me juice or spray me with fire retardant.”

“Fair. Harsh. But fair.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Tony tried to breathe slowly and not picture how the suit’s repulsors could disintegrate human skin. Maria picked at a hole in her jeans. It was one she had worn herself, not a fashion statement. He could appreciate both, but he remembered how she had gotten that particular hole while crawling over an engine block to loosen a bolt he couldn’t reach. It had been fun. He never would have thought he would have fun with a kid. Certainly not _his_ kid. It was the best surprise he had ever experienced. Maybe tied with Pepper loving him. Maybe a three-way tie with-

_Pregnant. Pepper is pregnant. We’re going to have-_

“Darcy says that the White House has a bowling alley because that was cheaper than securing a regular bowling alley when the President wanted to play a frame.” Maria’s statement shook him out of his spiral of anxiety.

“Uh, yeah. And because Truman was a yokel.” Tony shuddered. “Ugh. Bowling.”

“Would you build a bowling alley, so you didn’t have to make Happy clear out a place if you wanted to play?”

“First of all – no, that is never going to happen. Ever. More importantly, is this a cry for help, Junior? Are you trying to tell me something about a previously undisclosed yen for sweaty-communal shoes and individual servings of processed cheese?”

“Do you seriously think they serve slices of cheese at bowling alleys?”

Tony ignored her. “I wouldn’t disown you, per say. No. Of course not. I’m just saying there are professionals we could seek out. Treatments. Procedures, even. No cost is too great.”

Maria sighed, as if she were suffering under a great burden. “Braddox, from school-” she began.

“Braddox the a-hole or Braddox with the cool phone case?”

“The second one. Duh. Although most of the dads would say Braddox with the eyeliner.”

Tony shrugged, “He’s a spring and he wears it well.”

“Too true. Anyway. He texted me and wants to go see the new Charlize Theron movie, but, I know I have to take Happy and his goons. But Mr. Hogun got really weird and, like, eyeball-y when Lila and I went to that salvage place in Queens last month. There were only two dogs there and they were both super nice. The guy behind the counter was _maybe_ a felon, but like, only incidentally, I’m sure. And they had the part we needed, so no foul – right?”

“Happy does that. Get eyeball-y. It’s out of love.” He tried not to think about his daughter and the Barton girl haggling with a felon over used machine parts.

“Right. But. So. Would you?”

“Haggle with a felon?”

“Build a private bowling alley?”

“Do you seriously want a bowling alley?”

“Or...maybe-like-a-theater,” she rushed out as if afraid he would laugh. “Something like that.”

Tony stared down at the kid. His kid. Maria met his gaze. Her lips were chapped. Chewed on. And her crazy curls were spronging up all over her head without the aid of a hat or Pepper’s expensive smoothing stuff. She was so beautiful his chest hurt. But in a good way.

“Junior. Kid. Apple of my eye and fruit of my metaphorical legal loins-”

“Ew.”

“We have a media room. Just tell Friday what movie you want and she’ll get the rights, or whatever.” He added tonelessly, because there were at least three reminders collected in his nightstand about it, “Because intellectual property is the commodity of the future and stealing it is wrong even if it is ludicrously easy. Let Happy know who you’re inviting. Unless it’s Braddox the a-hole. He can’t come to my Tower. His mother works for Apple. I promise to say nice things like ‘hope you enjoy the show’ and not tell any embarrassing stories or dad jokes. Unless you want me to learn some dad jokes? Rhodey probably remembers some. Or – you were asking about a movie party, right? Or did you want me to get you some government cheese slices? Chez? Is it still cheese if it’s made from petroleum-based products? Friday! What is the cheese sold at bowling alleys made from?”

“Boss, I am unable to process your query.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Maria said quietly, smiling down toward the hole in her jeans.

Maybe he hadn’t fucked up.

**Author's Note:**

> I may have buried the lead there a bit. Pepper jumped to some conclusions.


End file.
